


brand new ground

by silverskys



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Established Relationship, Gen, I will singlehandedly make this a tag, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Thunderstorms, ZOOL is a family, happy memories with an abuser, haruka isumi has a mental breakdown, imagined abandonment, it's barely there, it's just one scene really, lots of fucks. the word not the act, the ship is honestly just a vehicle for the character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverskys/pseuds/silverskys
Summary: I want to change my mind.I want to be enough.suggested listening:"The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" by The Postal Service, cover by Birdy (instrumental)&thunder/rain sounds (50% volume)
Relationships: Isumi Haruka/Kujou Ten
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	brand new ground

Let's go somewhere else. It would've been so easy to say it. And he almost did, several times, finger twitching over the send button like some kind of shitty claw machine. But he didn't, because it's not like he can keep running from the fucking weather, _especially_ after all the shit he's given Tenn about being ‘emotionally vulnerable’ or whatever the fuck he was going on about. It's fine, I'll be fine, it's just rain.

Another bright spark of lightning flares in the distance, sending another bolt of panic down Haruka's spine. Definitely not ‘just rain.’ He curses to himself, and the sound of his own voice is drowned out in the thunder. What the fuck is this, a fucking typhoon?

It wouldn't be so bad if he'd stayed near the train station. The station attendees would've taken pity on him, let him shelter inside after closing. It would've been dark, cold there too, but at least the sound wouldn't be so bad. And he'd be dry. But no, because he's a fucking dumbass, he took a bus. After it had already started raining. It wasn't even supposed to be raining that early!

A violent gust of wind blows past him, pelting him with a thick layer of raindrops. The umbrella he brought does little to shield his body, already beaten to death by the wind. Above him, the bus stop awning groans, whines, and Haruka has to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Fuck. It's bleeding again. He's gotta stop doing that, or the scabs will show up on camera tomorrow.

He starts to tell himself that maybe it'll be mildly more tolerable if he can just– close his eyes– but just as he does, lightning cracks, and the world behind his eyelids lights up with yellow. The wave of thunder crashes against him a beat later. The plexiglass awning shrieks for help, and instinctively he checks with his free hand for leaks. Not that there would be any here… hopefully… 

Nothing. The surface is damp, cold, but dry underneath, and completely uncracked. Thank god. He might've really lost it. Storms are bad, sure, but leaks are worse.

Another wave of the storm’s winds howls past him in a bone-chilling rush, and this time Haruka doesn't even bother fighting it. He lets the fresh sheet of rain rip past his face, one hand clenched white around the handle of his umbrella, then two. The winds tears furiously at it, threatening to rip it from his hands entirely. He's forced forward, out from the relative protection of the awning, and he doesn't even notice until the rain pouring over the rim hits the back of his neck.

Maybe it's lightning, a blinding strike to a nearby lightning rod, but for a moment, the entire world goes white.

He's jarred back into existence not a second later, but the time is more than enough to lose his umbrella to the winds. And fall on his ass, too, apparently. He curses loudly, audibly, and fights his way back to his feet. His hands are trembling, fighting to rip at his hair. Lacking something, someone, to hold, he reluctantly turns to his cell phone. Only just barely does he manage to pull it from his pocket without dropping it directly into a puddle.

He thinks of calling Touma, asking for help, but the image of Touma tearing down the roads– in a storm– in the dead of night– is enough to dissuade him. They'd both end up dead, or worse, only Touma would die. Of course Torao's still at work, and Minami can't even fucking drive. Involuntarily, he hits one boot against the pavement, and a slew of curses tear out of his lips.

_Me_
    Are you gonna be late?

_Me_
    Should I grab food so it's ready when you get here?

_Me_
    Tenn, you OK?

The messages are the same as he left them an hour ago— at that point he'd just told himself to stop fuckin' looking at it. If he were smarter, or had thought ahead, or even just called someone—

His fingers dial the number of their own accord. The ring of connection is barely audible as thunder crashes overhead.

"Haru-chan, are you there?" Haruka fumbles madly for the volume, forcing a deep breath down his throat.

"Y-yeah, it's me, Grandma–!" He has to shout to make himself heard over the storm.

"Dear, are you all right? I can hear the wind and—"

"I'll be fine! Are you okay?!" _Please tell me you're okay. Please,_ please _, tell me you're okay._

"Yes, don't worry, Haru-chan. I checked the radar on TV earlier; the storm's going to miss me."

Another gulp of drenched air. He'll be fine. If his grandmother's okay, then he'll be fine. It'll all– be fine—

"Are you sure you're all right, dear?"

"Y-yeah–!" His thumb twitches across the ‘end call’ button, severing the connection. He doesn't answer when she calls back, letting the phone writhe in his grip, its ring rendered inaudible in the soaring, deafening winds. One call, two calls, and it goes dead in his grip. Haruka slumps against the shuddering plexiglass.

Before, when Kujou was teaching him, he would have come to Haruka's side. He would have lectured sternly, insisted Haruka become stronger, but he would have come, his manicured luxury car pelted by rain and debris tossed up by the winds. And he would have ushered Haruka inside, given him a towel for his hair — it was longer then — and brought him home. And he would have made idle chatter with his grandmother, polite and picturesque, while Haruka fumbled with the shower handle, dry clothes already waiting for him.

And by the time Haruka had finished soaking in the hot water, Kujou would be gone.

A shrill whine escapes his clenched teeth, lost to the gales of the wind. It's a horrible, pathetic sound, something wretched and awful reserved for the ill and dying, but it's better than crying. Hot tears are already pooling in his eyes. What is he here for? What did he fight for, cry for, bleed for, to be beaten by a _fucking thunderstorm_? He really is a failure. Kujou was right about him after all.

As if to protest, his phone squirms uncomfortably in his hand.

Tenn
    I'm terribly sorry. Due to a heavy storm, the power  
went off in the studio, and we made a decision along  
with the staff to resume filming after the power returned.  
Cell service was spotty during the disruption for similar  
reasons. We've just now finished filming. I'm incredibly  
sorry that I was unable to relay this to you. I will make  
it up to you next time, I assure you.
    
    
    Have you gone home already? The storm was due to  
head in the direction of our meetup, so I hope you were  
able to make it home safely.

The tears gathered so tightly in his eyes burst forth, leaving hot streaks against his cheeks. His fingers, numb from the cold, fumble uselessly over the keyboard.

~~I'm okay.~~  
_(I don't want to lie to you.)_

~~Still getting home but I'll be fine. My grandma's house wasn't hit.~~  
_(I want to be honest with you.)_

A flicker of headlights sail past on another road, obscured in the murk, and another flood of tears cascades over his cheeks. The letters of the keys blur uselessly together.

_Me_
    I need help. Please come get me.

And he can see it, faintly, the ephemeral image of Yaotome Gaku's glittering luxury car gliding through the darkness, the gales, the rain. The slam of the car's back door. Tenn's brow scrunched together with worry, rain pelting his face. His concerned eyes. The fierce lull of his crystalline voice, fighting through the storm's call.

“You did well, Haruka. I'm proud of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, this was inspired by a thunderstorm on my friend's New Horizons island, lol ... I hope you enjoyed? Well, 'enjoyed' is probably the wrong word, lmao ... Thank you to everyone who at this ahead of time for me, your feedback was enormously appreciated and crucial to me getting this done. And of course, huge thanks to my friend who keeps letting me bother her for pictures in AC:NH.
> 
> Now that I've written this, be prepared for me to never talk about anyone else ever again! ... jk, I need to write 'soul of celestial origins' before I can abandon myself to TennHaru forever. But I really hope to write more for them, so please stay tuned.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eienseiriron) ☆ [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/forevernote)


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